The Driver
by BlackBirdPie
Summary: Sandor was hired to drive her around. Make sure Sansa didn't run off. That was supposed to be all. AU, one-shot.


**A/N: So a modern day AU is very extremely unusual for me…but the song came on, and bam, Sansa/Sandor were in my head and I just had to write it. Some things pertinent to the one-shot that I didn't include in the story because I couldn't find a way to make them flow are the Lannisters/Baratheons are a mob family, they have Sansa, who is going to be married off to Joffrey. Sandor is still acting as the Hound. And the location can be whatever city you prefer to visualize them driving around in. Thanks and enjoy! **

_Swear these eyes tryna hypnotize  
Grip the leather steering wheel while I grip the thighs  
See the lust stuck up in her eyes_

Their relationship was a complicated one.

He was to take her from Point A, to Point B. No questions. No comments. No…contact. That's why he was chosen after all, no person, especially a young beautiful woman would ever take a second look at him. Unless it was to shudder.

The city lights were to his left, and he told himself that's what she was looking at, her head rolled back on the seat facing him.

She was going to get him killed, goddamn her, if she kept looking at him with dark hooded eyes.

"Sandor." She smiled when he ignored her, seeing herself in his highly reflective aviators. He sped the Coupe de Ville up in response. "I know you can hear me." She leaned sideways to whisper something in his ear, he reached out pushing her down by her leg.

"Enough, Sansa." He rasped.

"Shouldn't you call me Miss. Stark?"  
He grunted. "It'll be Baratheon soon enough." He regretted his words when he felt her move closer to the door, eyes looking wounded.

Logically, he knew it wasn't her fault she was marrying the little twatty cunt. It also wasn't her fault that he was thinking and feeling the things he was about her. In fact, he was little more than her jailer, hired by Cersei to get her "safely" around town, meaning make sure she didn't run off first chance she got. His little caged bird.

"Your hand."

"What?"

"Your hand. It's on my thigh, still."

He looked down, and surely enough it was. His rough tanned skin contrasted with the creamy pale of her leg. _Move it. Move it, you idiot_. And still it stayed. He could wrap nearly his whole hand around it. If he shifted his hand up just a few inches…the though made him inhale sharply, and jogged his memory enough to jerk his hand away.

Sansa grabbed his wrist, surprisingly forcefully, and moved his hand up to the hem of her skirt. "I want you to."

He gripped the steering wheel. "That's a bad idea."  
"Everything that's happened to me has come from other people's bad ideas. At least this one is my own." Her thumb stroked the inside of his palm.

He had taken how many whores, and yet this simple movement was enough to make his breathing shallow.

Sandor snaked his hand slightly further up, his ascent making Sansa's eyes flutter shut. He felt the promise of warmth and wet through her panties. She leaned further back into the chair, whispering his name. Although he started hesitantly, when she said his name like that it was enough to make him want to pull the car over, and do everything he had been dreaming of doing to her. Lannisters be damned.

He had been driving on autopilot, hardly noticing they were coming closer to Kings Landing Road, where his employers and her jailers lived. He removed his hand hastily, and the both immediately felt the loss of the contact.

"Sansa…we…I can't."

"Try won't."

Oh, but he would. She had no idea how easily he would. Though her motivations were unclear to him, if she was bored, trying to get him in trouble, cozy up so he would help her escape, or if she just wanted to spite the others, what was clear to him was how much he didn't care.

The house, which was closer to the size of a castle, was in view now. Sandor pulled into the attached garage, as per his instructions, and was going to try to say something but Sansa already had the door open and slammed shut before he could utter out a word.

And like that she was in the house.

_Goddamn her._


End file.
